Message-ID: <25872asstr$966561003@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: "Krystoff Vagabond" <kvagabond@lycos.com>
X-Original-Message-ID: <POMLKBMGEAMLDAAA@mailcity.com>
Mime-Version: 1.0
X-Sent-Mail: on
Reply-To: kvagabond@mailcity.com
X-Expiredinmiddle: true
Content-Type: text/plain; charset=us-ascii
Content-Language: en
Content-Transfer-Encoding: 7bit
Subject: {ASSM} Final Dawn (MF vampire fantasy)
Date: Thu, 17 Aug 2000 21:10:03 -0400
Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail
Approved: <assm@asstr-mirror.org>
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories
Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d
X-Archived-At: <URL:http://assm.asstr-mirror.org/Year2000/25872>
X-Moderator-Contact: ASSTR ASSM moderation <story-ckought69@hotmail.com>
X-Story-Submission: <ckought69@hotmail.com>
X-Moderator-ID: assm-admin
REPOST - Originally posted to alt.sex.stories in October 1999
The following story contains some explicit sexual material. Though not
blatantly pornographic, reader discretion is advised. Were this a movie,
it would probably gain an R rating. This story was written as an
exploration of character and while it might be considered erotic, the
intent was to delve into the minds of the characters rather than to
sexually arouse the reader. If you are looking for that you should look
elsewhere. However, if you are offended by sexuality, you should look
somewhere else as well.
This story is Copyright 1999, Krystoff Vagabond. It may be freely
redistributed as long as it remains completely intact and unmodified
(including these headers). I welcome comments and criticism. Please send
any thoughts you have on the story to kvagabond@mailcity.com
-Krystoff
---------------------------------------------------
Final Dawn
by K.Vagabond
One last night skulking in the shadows. One final flight over the city,
leaping from rooftop to rooftop. One final watch from a fire escape in an
unlit alley.
I was born into slavery, on a plantation in what would later become
Virginia, over three-hundred years ago. Another place. Another time. I
have seen the birth of a nation and its rise to world power. I have
witnessed man's mastery of science, the ability to create and the power to
destroy. I have walked side by side with men whose brief lives have shaped
history. I have defeated death and laughed in her face and yet I have
accomplished nothing. A man's life is measured by the mark he leaves on
the world. Yet I walk in shadows, invisible to all I wish not to reveal my
presence. A soul is weighed by the lives it has touched, but I forfeited
mine on a hot summer night in 1685. I have ended a hundred-thousand lives
for no purpose other than my own continued worthless existence. But it
ends tonight.
I watch down below as a woman leads a man into my alley. She pulls the
bands of fabric that pass for a top off of her shoulders and he immediately
buries his head in her bosom. His hands reach for her ass and pull her
skirt up around her waist. With a thrust, he is inside of her and a single
moan escapes her lips and rises up to my ears.
They don't see me. They don't see anything. I can see into their
minds. His lost in his own pleasure and hers locked on the money she is
making, tuning out the event as it takes place. The laws of the jungle
skew as each become both predator and prey. Hunter and hunted. Neither
considers the other anything more than a means to an end. A quarry to fuel
their continued survival. Yesterday, both would already be dead.
Dawn will bring a new day and end my last. My flesh will burn to ashes
and my bone will fade to dust. My very essence falling into oblivion, for
I traded away my afterlife an eternity ago. I welcome it. Eternal
nothingness will be a blessing when weighed against immortal emptiness.
"Do you truly believe that?"
She's standing beside me. For how long, I don't know. Tonight, I don't
even care. I pause to appreciate the irony of the moment. For centuries,
I have walked the night. I have hunted. I have stalked -- stood a
heartbeat away from my victims and remained beneath their notice -- killing
between breaths. Tonight, the last night of my existence, for the first
time, someone has skulked near me.
"Do you truly believe that?" she asks me again.
"Do I believe what?" I don't know why I answer her. I have no reason
to. I have no reason not. She's young and, I suppose I would think,
beautiful, if I still had any appreciation for such things. I speak in a
low monotone, expecting her to flinch. She does not.
"Do you truly believe that oblivion is better than eternal life?" She
gently brushes a lock of auburn hair from in front of her face with her
slender fingertips, but the wind places it back in the same spot.
"I believe oblivion is better than eternal pain." She wraps her arms and
embraces herself as she considers my words. Her leather jacket tightens
around her long skirt and the sash around her waist us caught in the same
breeze as her hair. "What if there was life without pain?"
"There can be no life without pain." I turn away from her and again look
down at the prostitute and john below. He holds her in his arms, her legs
wrapped around his back. He grunts as he hammers away at her body,
slamming her back hard against the brick wall. She screams. Is it
pleasure? Is it pain? I look at her face for the first time. She closes
her eyes tight and grinds her teeth as she waits for her back to numb.
"Survival is pain."
The girl leans against the rail next to me, her small white fingers
grasping the bar a hairs distance from my own dark hand. "And you fear
pain?"
I remember my transformation. I remember my heart burning, exploding as
it pounded towards its last beat, but clinging to life. Forcing what blood
it had left through my veins in utter agony with each beat for the sole
reason of doing it again a second later. The smell of strawberries in the
mistress's hair as her teeth sank into my neck. Her fingernails digging
into my back. My heart beating its last against her soft breasts. My last
living breath slowly sliding from my lips. I remember the countless
screams from each life I have ended in the years since. Minds anguishing
in torment as I took their lives the same way I might take a breath or
blink an eye. And I have lived with it. Every day for over three-hundred
years, I have lived with it. I close my eyes and grit my teeth. "I fear
stagnancy."
"Death is stagnancy," she whispers into my ear. Her breath is soft and
warm like that of a kitten or a small child and I find myself experiencing
a kind of anxiety; almost a fear. An emotion so long forgotten that that
it is totally alien to me. I want to tell her she is wrong. Prove to her
she is wrong. I want to take her hear and now. Grab her throat and rip it
inside out. I want to show her that death is the price of life.
"All things die," she tells me as she leans back over the rail. "It is
the way of things. Animals eat plants, plants thrive on the decaying flesh
of creatures that have fallen." She picks a flower from a near by pot
smells it then begins pulling its petals off one by one and discarding them
to the ground.
"To what end?" I ask her. I'm almost begging.
"Life. To see what the next day brings."
"And when each day is the same?"
She looks up from her flower and I meet her eyes. Large, innocent and
full of life, and yet, in their way, as old and traveled as my own must be.
I sense an understanding. I feel a chill and yet my body is on fire as if
she has reached inside of me and touched something I long since thought
dead. "Then you try something new," she tells me.
I look away, afraid that she might somehow see what she has done to me.
"How?" I ask quietly, under my breath. "Take my hand." I turn back around
and see that she has reached out to me. "Take my hand and become a part of
a whole new world, different from any you have ever known."
I look over the rail. The man is gone and the prostitute is
straightening her outfit to get ready to go back to work. I turn back to
the girl, her slender fingers reaching out towards me. Her smile
seductively drawing me in like the light at the end of a tunnel.
I close my eyes, take a deep breath and grasp her hand in mine. She
draws me close and touches her lips to mine. They part and as our tongues
touch I taste life. Strong. Sweet. Warm. Her arms wrap around me and I
am embraced. When I open my eyes I see the sun rising over her shoulder.
----
You may find other stories of mine at:
http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/kvagabond/www
Take a look and tell me what you think.
-------
-Krystoff
------------------------------------------------------------------------
|| http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/kvagabond/www || kvagabond@mailcity.com ||
|| "Booze, sex, prayer -- whatever gets you through the night." ||
------------------------------------------------------------------------
----- ASSM Moderation System Notice------
This post has been reformatted by ASSTR's
Smart Text Enhancement Processor (STEP)
system due to inadequate formatting.
----- ASSM Moderation System Notice------
--
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
+---------------------------------------------------------------------------+
| alt.sex.stories.moderated ----- send stories to: <ckought69@hotmail.com> |
| FAQ: <http://assm.asstr-mirror.org/faq.html> Moderator: <story-ckought69@hotmail.com> |
+---------------------------------------------------------------------------+
|Archive: <http://assm.asstr-mirror.org> Hosted by Alt.Sex.Stories Text Repository |
|<http://www.asstr-mirror.org>, an entity supported entirely by donations. |
+---------------------------------------------------------------------------+